Xenoblade: Blood and Oil
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Homs, nopon, High Entia, machina, Mechon. In the end, they all bled.


_A red liquid reminiscent of blood. They say it runs in Mechon veins._

Blood oil item description, _Xenoblade Chronicles_

 **Blood and Oil**

"It's almost as if it's bleeding."

The words were his own, and no-one heard them. In the desolation of Agniratha, there were few pairs of ears that belonged to the living. The Mechon, if they possessed the ability to hear the voice of a Homs (and he supposed they must have had some means of doing so) from far away (a bit less likely), provided no answer. The bodies of the telethia were silent, just as they had been for thousands of years. And in turn, the bodies of the latest batch of Mechon they had encountered were lying by them. The warriors of Mechonis next to the creatures of Bionis. Even here, dozens of miles away from Sword Valley, the dead remained in silent embrace. And only the voices of the living remained.

And even their own voices were dimmer than usual. Dunban had noticed it as soon as they had entered Mechonis – the silence, the emptiness. The machina were clearly living in every sense of the word despite their lack of flesh and blood, but Mechonis itself was like a mausoleum. After Gadolt and Vanea's arrival, the silence had become softer, the sounds of the central factory providing echoes of their own unease. And now, in the capital, after seeing the true history of their world, and the war of the titans, the silence itself had become deafening. They fought the Mechon and moved on. And even the Mechon themselves appeared lost. Without direction.

"You are troubled."

Dunban looked up at Vanea. The one who had shown them the truth. The one who had broken history's silence, and imparted it onto those who had accompanied her to the capital of Mechonis.

"Do you require rest?"

He shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Dunban murmured. "Quite sure."

She didn't look convinced. She just kept looking down at him. The machina were…strange. He couldn't ignore that. They weren't Mechon, but they were still of Mechonis. Still alien. Even the nopon were beings of flesh and blood.

And yet, he supposed that as a Homs, he would be as alien to the machina as they were to him. It made him wonder whether the question as to whether he was sure was out of great concern, or hesitation on her part as to the limits of his biology.

"Are you injured?"

"What? No."

"But your hand."

He held it up. The red substance that he had found on the shell of Mechonis, as the city had looped around to its edge. It had been coming out of the wall, like liquid ether. It reminded him of blood. And yet it clearly wasn't. It was far too sticky, far too thick. And after all, Mechonis didn't bleed.

"It isn't mine," he answered. "I just touched it on the shell of Mechonis. I wondered-"

"It's called blood oil."

Dunban blinked. Perhaps Mechonis did bleed after all.

"The so-called blood of Mechonis, carried too by Mechon." She smiled sadly. "On that day, thousands of years ago, we learnt how our home could bleed."

Dunban winced – the words were not a jibe. He could tell that much. But the pain in her voice, the look in her eyes…it was…well, pain. The type of pain that only a sapient being could possess. Whether it be Homs, nopon, High Entia, or machina.

"Blood," Vanea continued. "I understand that it runs in every being on Bionis, no?"

"Every animal at least," Dunban murmured.

"Hmm. Homs, at least, need blood," Vanea said. "I understand that much."

Dunban winced once more. Homs blood. He'd seen the red lines pulsing along the face units. Since Vanea's revelations as to how and why Egil had inserted Homs into their shells, the possibility of that red light being actual blood…he didn't want to think about it.

He turned away and fought the urge to sigh. Sword Valley was but a year ago – nothing to the machina, but everything to him, like a splinter in his soul. Mechon didn't bleed, blood oil or no. They could be fought, they could be destroyed, but they couldn't even give the satisfaction of actually 'dying' so much as shutting down. The Mechon had laid there silently in that valley. The Homs lucky enough to survive had tended to those slightly less lucky. The ones who had lain there screaming and moaning as their blood soaked into the dust. He'd lost the use of his arm that day. Others had lost their lives. And many more had been wounded so horrifically that some envied the dead. Back then, he would have given anything to see the Mechon actually _bleed_. To know that one useless arm and thousands of lives was a sacrifice that could give their enemy pause.

"Dunban?"

And now? Now he knew that the Mechon were being driven by one man, determined to spill blood, to avenge those that did not bleed, but could be wounded, killed, and… _hurt_ , all the same. Now, he was faced with the concept of Mechonis being alive as much as Bionis, that it was more than a monolithic titan on the other side of the sea, meaning nothing to him bar it being the home of his enemy. Now…he flexed his fist. Now, in all likelihood, at least one more death would be imparted. Even if blood wasn't spilt.

"Are you alright?"

He glanced at Vanea, and at the blood oil on his palm. It felt less sticky now. Felt much easier to wash away.

"Blood oil," he murmured. He looked up at the machina. "Looks just red to me."

She nodded. And he knew she understood. Blood, or no blood, it still flowed. Lives were lost. A cycle of bloodshed was continued. Even now, in Sword Valley itself, the battle of the past year repeated itself. And one last battle awaited him as well. Him, Shulk, Fiora, and everyone else he had grown close to. Everyone else who he would gladly give his life for to save theirs, if the need arose.

"We should get going," he said. "Shulk and the others will wonder about us."

He began walking. Soon, this would end. Or so he hoped. He had to believe that one way or another, this-

"Will you still kill him?"

He glanced back at her. Time, through her eyes, looked back at him.

"Egil," she repeated. "Will you kill him?"

Dunban sighed. "Shulk wields the Monado," he answered. "I think that in the end, it will be his choice."

"And if the Monado was your blade again," she asked. "What then?"

His gaze was impassive. A year back…there would have been no question. The Mechon were the enemy. Mechonis was the base. He'd likely have seen the machina as his enemy by default. And Egil _was_ his enemy, but…

"I would do the thing required to bring the bloodshed to an end." He brushed his hand against his armour – it wouldn't take much to wash off. "That is the only truth I can give you."

Vanea nodded. She understood.

After all these years, after one cycle of hatred after another, after seeing where it all began, Dunban could only hope that finally, he did as well.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _Two liberties taken here that I feel I should touch on. First, the blood oil description - it's what gave me the idea for the piece, but for some reason I initially read it as being the blood of Mechonis, not Mechon. That was after I wrote the thing, so kind of had to wriggle around a bit to justify the link. Second, another liberty taken with Vanea being here, whereas in the game, after the hologram sequence, she goes straight to Egil. No idea how she can just teleport while we have to activate various pillars, but hey, go figure._


End file.
